Dark Knight Over The Empire
by ordinaryguy2
Summary: A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. . . under a dictatorial empire, the origins of the Dark Knight begin! After seeing his parents murdered in front of him, young Bruce Wayne is taken into the Jedi Temple to be raised despite having no ability to use the force. How will this change his life when he is finally able to return to the care of his uncle? Story by Carycomic
1. Chapter 1

**DARK KNIGHT OVER THE EMPIRE**

**A "DC Elseworlds/Star Wars: Infinities" crossover.**

**By Carycomic**

_Characters and concepts: if you recognize them, I don't own or profit from them (as usual)._

**A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. . .**

. . .there was an interplanetary republic. One with a government so corrupt, many of its member worlds tried to secede! And, consequently, a terrible civil war was fought to prevent that.

The Republic eventually won. But, at a terrible price: it became a dictatorial empire. With the former Supreme Chancellor ruling as an absolute monarch! That is why many former foes have now joined together in an alliance to restore the Old Republic. Even though such a restoration will not be easy. Indeed; such an effort will require a great deal of bravery. . .and boldness.

**CORUSCANT, 32 BBY (BEFORE THE BATTLE OF YAVIN)**

"Who is this, Master?" inquired the newly knighted Sacorrian Jedi, referring to the strangely quite six year-old boy before her.

"His name is Bruce-and-Wayne Kane-Finger of Lorrd," replied Jorus C'baoth: "Bruce Wayne, for short. His parents and I were fellow members of the Senate Interspecies Advisory Council. And, last night? He saw them murdered, before his very eyes!"

Lezlee Tomkin's hands flew to her mouth, in speechless horror, as Jorus C'baoth continued.

"Forensic scanning of a blaster, found discarded at the scene, has shown traces of Arcona DNA. Leading police to theorize an armed robbery-gone-wrong. . .perpetrated by a salt addict. Which is why they are rounding up every female Arcona, answering that description, even as we speak."

"And, the boy?" Lezlee asked: "What will become of him?"

"I'm going to ask the Council to make him a ward of the Temple. I know he lacks all sensitivity to the Force! Yet, he has no living relatives on his father's homeworld. And, his mother's homeworld is just too rife with political intrigue, at the moment for my peace of mind."

"If they say '_yes_,' " replied Lezlee: ". . .you know you can count on me to help you look after him. I could even reprogram one of the protocol droids to act like a robotic telbun!"

Lezlee had learned of that unique form of surrogate parenting (_practiced by Kuati aristocracy_) from her fellow ex-Padawan and former roommate, Kendalina of Kuat. And Jorus C'baoth, sensing the sincerity in her words, smiled and nodded in agreement.

Fortunately, for him, the Jedi Council proved equally agreeable in granting his request. As a result, Lezlee was able to keep her promise. She introduced young Bruce to LFR-3D. A variant of the LE-class of protocol droid who preferred to be known. . .as "_Alfred_."

Yet, despite all the tender-loving care they lavished upon him, Bruce remained hysterically mute for the next year. It took a rather unusual incident for his power of speech to return to him.

One particularly warm night, while sleeping with the window open, a hawk-bat flew into his bedroom. Normally, the wing beats of this avian species were virtually silent. Yet, somehow, they awakened Bruce. And the distorted silhouette it cast on the dimly lit wall, behind his head board, made it seem like a huge monster to his bleary eyes. As a result?

He started screaming!

Lezlee and Alfred rushed to his room. The latter adjusting his vocabulator so that it sonically repelled the hawk-bat, driving it back out through the window. While the former hugged young Bruce to her bosom. Using a moderate amount of the Force to enhance the calming effects of the lullaby she was now humming to him. Little did she know, however, that this would be the last time she would ever comfort him so. Because, two weeks later, the political intrigue on Alderaan that Jorus C'baoth had been so critical of was finally resolved. Bail Organa of House Organa would now be the planet's ruling Viceroy.

Which, in turn, meant that he would finally get to meet his late sister's only child.

**GCPD HEADQUARTERS, NEW COV (10 BBY)**

"Commissioner Gordon?" said the younger man: "I'm Harr Veedent. Senior Prosecutor for the Imperial Office of Criminal Investigations, Churba Sector. This is my steno droid, J-3PO."

"Pleased to meet you," said Jimm Gordon with as much sincere enthusiasm as he could fake.

"Where's the prisoner?"

"Right this way."

Gordon led the way into a gray-walled interrogation room. There, sitting at a table with two chairs, was a rather plump human with salt-and-pepper hair. . .and a rather sour expression on his face. Veedent sat down across from the man and repeated the introductions before asking the plump man's name.

"Please state it loudly, and clearly, for the record," he added.

"Fredrikk Stryker," replied the prisoner in a bitter tone.

"Occupation and planet of residence?"

"Former general manager of Apex Chemicals, Gotham City-dome, New Cov."

"And how did you first become involved with Black Sun, Mr. Stryker?"

"Last year, I had a streak of bad luck at the sabacc tables on Ord Mantell. And, six months ago, I'm approached by this Anzat who says he works for a Tisshar who's bought up all my markers! All I have to do, to pay them back is to let them use the chemical plant as a front. . .for refining contraband glitterstim."

"What was your response?"

"I told him that was impossible, as I had four partners I had to answer to!"

Veedent consulted a data pad handed him by J-3PO.

"Those being. . .Steevin Crane, Paul Rogers, Willem Lambert, and Bruce Wayne?"

Stryker nodded: "With Crane in charge of Shipping; Rogers, the head of Research & Development; Lambert, the chief numbers cruncher; and Wayne, the majority stockholder from having given us the start-up creds."

"How did the Anzat react to your pronouncement?"

"He said to leave those details up to them. That they were real good at arranging tragic '_accidents_.' "

_Read and review, please!_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

"And what '_accident_' did they arrange for Willem Lambert?" asked Veedent.

Stryker briefly inhaled before replying.

"A Clawdite killed him by impersonating his son! He then did the same to Crane. At the same time, a computer slicer named Jennings (who'd been slipped into the Accounting Dept. as a temp worker) would lay a data trail that would make it seem Willem, Junior had done both murders in order to inherit his father's share of the company. And, thereby, pay off those heavy sabacc debts I mentioned earlier."

"The ones you had really incurred," corrected Veedent.

Stryker nodded: "Yeah."

"So, what went wrong?"

"Jennings was to input the false data from the terminal in Lambert, Senior's office (seeing as Junior was the only other one at the plant who knew his old man's password). But, he found Rogers already there, for some reason, and got greedy. Thought he might get a bonus if he killed Rogers, himself! So, he whipped out a vibro-shiv and went after him."

"And. . .?" prompted the Imperial Senior Prosecutor.

"And, from out of nowhere, comes this maniac in a costume! ! !" shouted Stryker.

"Costume?! What kind of costume?"

"Dark bluish-black. With pointy ears atop a full face mask. The image of a red hawk-bat on his chest. And these red wings, with webbing under his arm pits!"

Veedent looked at Gordon with an incredulous expression on his face. The commissioner merely responded with a stone-faced shrug. So Veedent resumed questioning.

"What happened, then?"

"The guy in the hawk-bat suit did some kind of acrobatic leaping around that placed him in between Jennings and Rogers. So, Jennings went after him, first. It was a real knock-down/drag-out fight, I can tell you. Jennings was no amateur with that vibro-shiv! But, against that hawk-bat man, he had no chance. He wound up being tossed through Lambert's open office window by that maniac!"

"And, you just happen to know all this, how?"

"I was watching it via the hidden holovid camera I'd planted in Lambert's office on Black Sun's orders. And when I saw what had happened to Jennings, I panicked and ran for it. I made it all the way to my skimmer, in the staff parking garage, too. . .before _he_ caught up to me."

"This hawk-bat man," Veedent added.

"Yeah. He seemed to appear out of thin air. Just like Lambert's office! And, he decked me with one punch. The next thing I know, I'm waking up in a cell at GCPD HQ."

"What about the Clawdite who impersonated Willem, Junior?" Veedent pressed: "Where was he all this time?"

Stryker shrugged. "I got no idea."

It was at this point that J-3PO interrupted things.

"Oh, dear! I believe I've heard enough."

Veedent looked at the steno droid in astonishment.

"I beg your pardon!"

"You heard me, shyster."

Whereupon, J-3PO transformed into. . .a Roonian mud man.

"Guards!" yelled Commissioner Gordon: "Get in here, qui-"

The rest of his order was cut off by a mud ball that slammed into the right side of his head. Followed by two more (one apiece) colliding with the foreheads of the GCPD officers who came rushing in, stun batons at the ready. Harr Veedent, on the other hand, was merely picked up, by the arm pits, and bodily slammed against the left-hand wall of the interrogation room.

Whereupon, he slumped to the floor, unconscious. At which point, the Clawdite turned to Stryker and smiled.

"Your turn."

"Oh, dear!" exclaimed a new voice. "I'm afraid I can't permit that."

It was hard to tell who was more startled by that interruption: Stryker or the Clawdite. Because the new voice had sounded remarkably like the one the latter had just used while posing as J-3PO!

"Who said that?" demanded the metamorphic assassin. "Where are you?"

"Right here," growled the masked figure that seemed to materialize out of thin air: "Catch!"

There followed a right handed throwing motion. The next moment, a series of small pellets buried themselves beneath the Clawdite's presently muddy exterior. . .before exploding.

"What the. . .?" the Clawdite began to swear.

"Miniature glop grenades," chortled the masked figure: "The second you resume your base form, you'll be covered in an adhesive gel stickier than an arachnor's web!"

"We'll see about that."

Yet, when the Clawdite tried to call what he thought was a bluff, he found out that the masked figure had not been bluffing. Which so frustrated him that he began to instinctively do the one thing he should not have done. Thrash about, trying to get loose through sheer brute force!

It only made the adhesive strands cling to him all the more tightly. Whereupon, the masked figure threw down one more pellet. This one, however, released a cloud of anesthetic gas that instantly rendered the Clawdite unconscious. And when Commissioner Gordon and his Imperial guest were revived by police med-techs? They saw Fredrikk Stryker being taken away in a repulsorlift stretcher. All the while shouting the same thing, over and over, at the top of his lungs.

"It was him, again. The hawk-bat man. It was him, again! The Hawk-Batman! !"

**tbc?**


End file.
